


Popping Questions and Bursting Bubbles

by ItsaVikingThing



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Marriage Proposal, One of the only times I've been canon compliant too, a few times, a wee bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18080840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing
Summary: Chloe is thirteen the first time she asks Max to marry her. It doesn't come as a huge surprise that Max says no, but it doesn't deter Chloe either. Not that time, or any of the others...





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Chloe Price asks Maxine Caulfield to marry her, Chloe is thirteen and Max has recently turned twelve. They're hanging out in Chloe's backyard--literally, in Chloe's case--on a warm fall day in the precious time between the end of school and the call to dinner, the time when they can both be themselves without worrying about what anyone thinks of them.

After a philosophical debate on the merits and pitfalls of telepathy as a superpower, Chloe casually steers the conversation to the topic she's been thinking about all day. Well, all month, really.

"So, anyway. We should get married. Wanna marry me?"

Max, sitting in the swing beside Chloe, freezes. She swallows the gummy worm she was chewing and scrunches up her nose in the way she does when she's worried. "Uh, wh-what? You want to...? Ah, we're too young. Right?"

Chloe, hanging upside down from the chains of the swing set her father built her in the Price household's backyard, rolls her eyes. "Obviously we'll get married when we're old. Like, way old. Twenty or something. I didn't mean this actual minute, Maxine."

"Hey!" Max does her best to glare at her best friend. "Don't call me Maxine!"

"Well, stop being a wuss and answer the question!"

Max chews her lip and furrows her brow. Her hands worry the hem of her shirt and her eyes unfocus. Thinking about things can take Max a while, because Max has a tendency to worry about things in every way they can be worried about. 

Chloe lowers her feet and drops onto the grass of the yard. Chloe's starting to feel weird because every ounce of blood in her body is in her head now and was probably going to start shooting out of her nose if she'd stayed in that position any longer. Chloe is pretty sure that you're not supposed to shoot blood out of your nose all over the person you're proposing to, even if they are a wuss who is taking way too long to answer you. Chloe's mom has an old etiquette book in the house--a present from _her_ mom--and while Chloe's research on proposals didn't rule out explosive nosebleeds, it didn't have anything positive to say on the subject either. 

Best to avoid them altogether, Chloe thinks.

Dizzy now, Chloe grabs the frame of the swing set and aims herself in the direction of the blur that looks most like Max. "So?"

Max swallows audibly, clearly getting way more worked up than she needs to be. It's just _marriage_ , after all. If their respective parents could figure it out, there's no way Max and Chloe won't be able to handle it. 

"Don't you have to...to b-be in, uh, in l-love to get married?" Max says.

"Well..." Chloe closes her eyes, which helps with the nausea and dizziness caused by every ounce of blood in her body figuring out where it's supposed to be instead of crammed into her head. "Uh, we love each other? So what's the issue?"

"I guess..." Chloe listens to the sound of Max's sneaker wearing a furrow into the grass. "But...we're not _in_ love, are we? It's different. Why do we even _need_ to get married?"

"Because, dummy!" Chloe tries to suppress her irritation. This is _not_ how it goes in any of the movies her dad secretly loves to watch and loudly complains about when they come on TV. Maybe she should have bought a ring and got on one knee instead of buying Max a packet of gummy worms and hanging upside down until her face was redder than a tomato. 

For the first time since the idea occurred to her, Chloe wonders if it's a good one. Then she remembers that it's a _great_ idea, and Max is just being Max about everything. "We're gonna be together forever, right? And that's what marriage is. It's like saying...it's like saying we're best friends forever in a pinkie swear with _Jesus_. Don't you want to be my BFFIA...uh, PSWJ?"

Max giggles. Her face when it's all lit up and happy is too good to miss, so Chloe opens her eyes, even though she's still feeling a little unsteady. Looking at Max's grin and the glow in her eyes makes Chloe feel even more dizzy somehow, but it also makes her feel better.

The laughter fades from Max's face after a second and she starts to frown again. "We'd have to kiss, though. In front of...everyone. You can't get married if you don't kiss."

It's true, but Chloe was hoping Max would have said yes already and not noticed that part. The thing is...the thing is that Max is still too young to get kissing as an activity. Chloe has been a teenager for _months_ , and while kissing is something she has almost no experience in, it's something she's begun to think about. And somewhere in that thinking, Chloe began to think about kissing Max. 

On the lips. She's...been thinking about that more and more lately.

Which...is maybe weird. And definitely not something she can casually bring up in conversation with her best friend. But there's this sense of curiosity as to what it would be like that won't go away, and Chloe thought she'd figured out the perfect plan to get to kiss Max in a way that _wouldn't_ be weird, but Max is being so _Max_ right now.

Chloe wipes her palms on her jeans and puts on a grin. "It's, like, _one_ kiss, Max. Not a big deal."

Max pales. "I...I d-don't know, Chloe...I don't...I couldn't do that."

"You don't have to _now_!" Chloe hesitates. She licks her lips, trying to make her tone airy even as her stomach drops into a heavy, twisting darkness. "Unless...you wanna practice, maybe? We could, I dunno, give it a go while no one's--" Max gets even paler, her nose even more scrunched up, so Chloe quickly says, "Just kidding!"

"You suck!" Max sags with relief. "Don't joke like that!"

"Whatever! You're the one who doesn't wanna marry me. _You_ suck way more."

"Shut up!" Max's brow furrows again. "Can...can girls even get married?"

"Duh! Ask your mom the answer to that one, genius!"

"Hey!" Max folds her arms and pouts. "I meant to each other!"

Chloe blinks. "What kind of bs would it be if we couldn't?"

"Uh..." Max goes back to working the toe of her sneaker into the dirt of the yard. Her expression miserable, Max says, "I don't think it's allowed, Chloe. I don't think they let girls marry anyone other than boys."

"Seriously?" Chloe blinks some more. Now she thinks about it, that etiquette book didn't have anything to say about two brides or two grooms. Just one of each. " _Shit_. This sucks, Max!"

"Yeah," Max says, looking relieved. "I think it's the same for boys, too. They have to marry girls. So I can't marry you. It, uh, it totally sucks, huh?"

"We have to do something about this!"

"Oh, uh, okay? But...what?"

"Well...you know what? I'm definitely gonna become a pirate now," Chloe declares, narrowing her eyes and bunching her hands into fists. "When I'm a pirate captain, I'll be able to, uh..." Chloe hesitates, thinking about the etiquette book. "Officiate! I'll be able to officiate for anyone who wants to get married! That's pirate _law_. No one'll be able to stop me!"

A trench is beginning to form beneath Max as her foot scrapes back and forth. "I...thought you were going to be a scientist?"

Chloe scoffs. "I'll be both! I'll make a lab in my ship! _And_ a chapel, for all the weddings!"

"I...guess that sounds cool." Max hesitates, then blurts, "I don't...I don't think I w-want to get married? I...don't want to kiss and wear dresses and makes _speeches_ , Chloe! People'll laugh at me!"

Chloe narrows her eyes. "They _won't_. Not on _my_ pirate ship."

Max shakes her head miserably. "I can't do it, Chloe. There's no way I could get married! Not ever!"

"It's cool, Max." Chloe sighs. "It was just an idea. Forget it."

"You're not...mad?"

Max peers up at her anxiously, and even though Chloe is a little mad, that look makes her anger vanish. Chloe hates it when Max gets upset, and she hates to upset Max even more. So Chloe grins and ruffles Max's hair. "Nah, I'm not mad. Wanna go see if dinner's ready?"

"Yeah," Max says, standing up quickly, her expression brightening even as she tries unsuccessfully to smooth her hair back down. "We can set the table!"

"Dork," Chloe says, bumping her shoulder. "You're not supposed to _want_ to do chores!"

Bickering idly they leave the back yard and talk of marriage behind them. Max seems to forget the whole conversation entirely. Chloe doesn't mind. She doesn't give up on her plan, either, but she decides she'll need to wait a while before broaching the subject with Max again. But a year after Chloe proposes, her father is killed in an accident that robs Chloe of her belief in 'forever' and weeks after that, Max leaves Arcadia Bay, robbing Chloe of her best friend.

* * *

Chloe is nineteen and hasn't seen Max Caulfield in five years when she discovers that Max has returned to Arcadia Bay. It takes Chloe less than twenty-four hours from the moment she meets Max again to go from being pissed at her to proposing to her.

Admittedly, it's a very full twenty-four hours. Chloe fucks up a blackmail attempt, dies a few times, has a run-in with her dealer which gets pretty close to stabby and is one empty chamber of a revolver away from getting quite shooty and possibly murdery, too. Not exactly an average Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning, even for the shitstorm of a life that Chloe hates to have to call her own.

It's after all the crazy, when Chloe has dropped Max off at school and taken herself to the lighthouse to smoke and try to process everything that the idea presents itself, delivered on a silver platter from her subconscious to her forebrain: she should marry Max.

It's crazy, of course, and completely impractical, and how much she wants it leaves Chloe shaking so badly she drops first her phone and then her joint. As she scrambles to recover them and her own equilibrium, Chloe has to wonder where the fuck _that_ came from. But she knows, of course. Chloe doesn't want to look at it too closely, but she's always known that if Max came back, Chloe's anger and bitterness wouldn't long survive Max seriously trying to reconnect. 

Given that Max has saved Chloe's life twice at least, and given that she almost shot the drug dealer Chloe owes money to in an effort to protect her, Chloe has to concede that Max is, at the very least, making an _effort_. And in the face of that, it's hard to stay angry. And without the defences her anger affords her, Chloe is helpless against the need Max has awakened in her.

Chloe puts her phone on her lap, stuffs her joint into her mouth and cups it with her shaking hands while she relights it. She pulls smoke into her lungs and holds it there. She holds _herself_ there while she stares out over the water below her, trying not to move so she can't get tangled and twisted up in the wreckage of her past.

The water of the bay is silver under the golden light of the sun. A bird calls somewhere in the forest behind her and, as if in answer, something creaks and groans in the old lighthouse. Chloe wonders what sort of picture Max would take, if she were here. Another stab of longing makes Chloe cough on the exhale, like this was her first time smoking a joint all over again. 

For a moment, when her lungs have cleared and her head is beginning to be the right kind of foggy, it's like _everything_ is new again.

It isn't, though. And all the things that Max has stirred up are too complicated, too hard to handle, too frightening to sort through. Chloe could comb through the rubble of her broken heart, clear the debris from the pieces that aren't too damaged to function, to swell with love again. But to make that effort, to do that labour with nothing more than a shadow of a hope that Max might stick around long enough for it to matter this time...that might be more than Chloe can handle.

What's truly fucking _terrifying_ , though, is the idea that Max might stay. That there could be something there, if only Chloe could not fuck up long enough to let it happen.

Chloe takes another hit. The smoke seeps into her, loosening the knots of her body. It flows more smoothly out of her this time, taking some of the worst pieces of herself with it. For a little while, at least; good things only last a little while, Chloe knows. It's what makes them so important.

Chloe suddenly snorts, remembering the look on Frank's face when Max pulled the trigger. He tried to hide it, but there was this brief flash of...panic. Terror. Disbelief. Max just looked terrified throughout the whole thing, of course. But...but Max stood her ground. She didn't run. She didn't even blame Chloe much for all the insane shit Chloe dragged her into.

Max is back. And it's such an intoxicating feeling, having her here, having her support, having her turn out to be such a badass, having her turn out to be so fucking pretty...

Chloe blinks down at her phone. In her daze, she's typed 'Max, the boss with the gun.' Chloe snorts. "If you like her that much, Chloe, why don't you marry her?" With a few taps of her restless fingers, Chloe invites Max to do just that. She snorts again, grinning. "This'll freak her out. Wish I could see her face. Bet this'll make her nose scrunch up! Heh."

Chloe sends the text.

As soon as she has, she thinks of Rachel, and guilt and confusion coil behind her ribcage, constricting her heart and lungs. It's not like Chloe has given up on Rachel. It's not like she's stopped loving her. But it all feels so distant, so abstract. She's gone from basking in the bonfire of Rachel's presence to burning memories of her to try to stay warm. The more time goes by, the more Chloe is weighed down by the fear that memories might be all she'll ever have of Rachel again.

The idea that memories are _all_ that Rachel might be is not one that Chloe wants in her head, so it's a giddy relief that Max texts her back so quickly. Max is supposed to be in class, but here she is, texting Chloe back immediately. Even if Max _is_ saying no, it still makes Chloe grin.

Of course...Max didn't _actually_ say no. She just pointed out that it's illegal in Oregon, and even then she said it was illegal _for now_. Chloe texts her back, pointing out the possibility of eloping. There's nothing more behind it at this point than a desire to tease, and Chloe is only a little disappointed when the minutes stretch out and she doesn't hear anything else from Max.

The urgency Chloe felt five minutes ago is gone, carried away with the last of the smoke that escapes her lips as she finishes her joint. In its place she finds herself leaning back on the bench, stretching out her arms along the top of it. She finds her mind leaning back, and she finds so many memories at her fingertips, memories of when she and Max were kids and the world's teeth were still hidden from her.

Chloe lets her mind wander through the past and finds herself back at the moment that she first proposed to Max. Past and present slot together with an almost audible click as Chloe realises that she's still looking for a way to kiss Max. For all the anger and the pain and the dread she's been living with, the idea of kissing Max Caulfield has been burrowing its roots in Chloe's mind since almost the moment Chloe laid eyes on her again.

Or perhaps the idea has been there for the last five years, needing only Max's return to flourish.

"Need to up my game, though," Chloe muses. "I think I can come up with a better scheme than marriage proposals to kiss Max."

Chloe snorts and giggles, her laughter drifting out over the bay, vanishing into the same horizon that swallowed her smoke. She feels loose and languid and sun-dappled and...happy.

It feels strange to feel happy.

It's strange to be able to remember her past and for it not to hurt. In the time between her father dying and Rachel coming into her life, Chloe found herself living with the past and the present tangled in her mind. The joy of her memories was rendered into pain by the pressure cooker of the reality she returned to when her daydreams ended. But now, thinking about her old scheme to make Max kiss her, Chloe finds herself smiling. An ache settles into her chest, but it isn't an unpleasant one. It sits sweetly in the space the smoke has opened within her, and for once it feels like there are possibilities in front of her.

It isn't the last time Chloe gets to be happy that week, but the best that can be said for it in the end is that Chloe survives it. Chloe and Max both survive it, even if for a little while it barely feels that way and for a long time surviving is all it feels like.

* * *

It's five years later and her face is full of hair the next time Chloe proposes.

It's a Saturday morning, notable for nothing more than the fact that Chloe wakes up spooning Max in much the same state they fell asleep in. As her awareness seeps out into the world, Chloe finds herself not quite disturbed, but...puzzled. Something feels off. It takes another minute of waking, of listening to Max's deep, even breathing, of gently pulling Max more snugly against Chloe's body and letting her warmth soak through her before she realises what's wrong.

What's wrong is that nothing's wrong.

They've been living in their own place in Seattle for a couple of months now. They both have jobs they can at least stand, Max's shutterbug habits are in the ascendancy again, Chloe's been embraced into the Caulfield clan, and in spite of the worst that life can throw at them, Chloe and Max are together. But what really stands out about this morning is what happened the night before.

"No nightmares," Chloe murmurs, pressing her face into Max's hair, hunting for skin to kiss. She leaves her face buried in Max's hair, her lips pressed to the back of Max's neck. Max's hair tickles her with every word when she adds, "We both slept the whole night through."

It doesn't occur to Chloe to pull away again. She breathes Max in and hides her smile in the fragrant thicket of Max's hair. It doesn't occur to her that she might wake Max, either; considering before doing has never been one of Chloe's core operating principles.

Max stirs and mumbles something inaudible. She reaches up and curls a hand loosely around Chloe's neck, her fingers threading through the ends of Chloe's hair. She mumbles, "Wha's goin' on back there?"

Chloe turns her head, careful not to dislodge Max's hand. It's at the forefront of her mind to say any number of things. That nothing is going on, that it's a good morning, that she's happy, that she's _horny_ , that she loves Max and that waking up beside her hasn't gotten old, will _never_ get old, no matter how old _they_ get, but that isn't what she says. What Chloe _says_ is: "We should get married."

And then she tenses, waiting for Max to tense.

Max chuckles. Her body stays loose and easy. Her fingers tighten their grip on Chloe. "We aren't?"

"Uh..."

Chloe blows some hair out of her face. She decides that maybe this is a conversation best had with something other than the back of Max's neck. She props herself up on one arm so she can look at Max. Max releases her, shifting so that she's lying on her back, looking up at her. Max's eyes are half-closed and her face is puffy and she's so pretty Chloe has to kiss her. So Chloe does, pressing close, tangling their bare legs together, feeling Max wake up fully from her mouth outward.

When she's satisfied the eternal need to kiss Max enough for now, Chloe eases back and locks eyes with Max. "I'm serious, dude. About the, uh, the marriage thing. Us. Doing that. For real. We should. Shouldn't we?"

Max blinks up at her, her parted lips pursing, her flushed cheeks cooling. She slowly nods. "Yeah, so...we need coffee."

"Huh?" Chloe blinks back at her. There's an 'oh _shit_ ' kind of feeling robbing her of the warm lassitude of moments before, slowly squeezing her guts. Everything was fine, everything was actually _good_ , so of course Chloe had to instantly fuck it up. Chloe puts on a grin and clamps down on the thoughts threatening to unravel her. "Uh, I'm down on my knees here, Maxine, and this is the response I get? 'We need coffee'?"

Max raises an eyebrow. But one of her hands settles on Chloe's hip and gently squeezes.

Chloe's grin eases into something more genuine. "Pfft! You know what I mean. I'm _metaphorically_ on my knees!"

Max raises another eyebrow.

Chloe sighs. "Fine, god! Sorry I called you Maxine!"

"Better." Max rears up and kisses the tip of Chloe's nose. "Hey. I love you, Chloe Price. But, if we're going to talk about this..."

Chloe watches Max yawn and barely fights off one of her own. "Okay. Sure. Coffee."

"Yeah."

"Whiiiich you want me to make?"

"I was going to, but then _someone_ had to call me Maxine..."

"And let me guess, you're going to stay in bed while I go do it?"

"Oh, obviously, yeah!" Max stretches, arching her back. Her sleep shirt has ridden up a little, exposing a sliver of her stomach. She smiles lazily when she notices Chloe noticing. Chloe feels another flutter in _her_ stomach, though it's altogether more pleasant this time.

Chloe sighs. "...you're refusing to get up with me so you can perv on me when I go to the kitchen, right?"

"You've seen right through me." Max's smile softens. "Hey. We're good. I promise. I just need a minute, okay?"

"Okay." Chloe swallows. She's the one who feels transparent. She almost hopes that she is, so that Max can explain to her what the hell is going through her own mind. "Okay. Coffee coming right up."

It's more than five very anxious minutes before Max joins her wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and fighting another yawn. Max smiles at her, though, and shuffles into Chloe's space, pressing her face into Chloe's shoulder while Chloe pours water into the caffetiere. Chloe puts the kettle back on its stand and wraps an arm around Max, feeling stupid and grateful.

A few minutes later they sit facing each other on their battered couch. Max has her knees drawn up to her chin. She hugs her legs, cradling her cup in her hands. Chloe folds her legs under her and leans her arm along the back of the couch.

Max gulps down some coffee. She chews her lip. She says, "I don't know why, but it makes me anxious."

"Getting married?"

Max nods.

"Or marrying me?"

Max scrunches her nose. Chloe is an expert on Max's nose by now, so she understands that this is an irritated nose scrunch. "Chloe."

If Chloe were a nose-scruncher, hers would be a nervous scrunch right now. "Uh, yeah?"

"It's always going to be you," Max says patiently. "I only want you. I love you."

"Well, yeah. Obviously!" Chloe puts on a grin she doesn't quite mean, but the tension ebbs from her. "It was just an idea. Don't worry about it, Max."

That prompts a different nose scrunch. "What? No, Chloe. This is important to you. It's important to _us_. We can talk about this."

"It...okay." Chloe sighs. "I mean, it _was_ just an idea. A dumb one. We've barely settled in here and unless you have any hidden treasure squirrelled away, it's not like we can afford to get married."

"Nope, no treasure." Max frowns into her coffee. "What sort of wedding would you like? Something...big?"

 _Any kind where we're married at the end of it,_ Chloe thinks.

"Nah. I mean, I guess we'd have to have your folks. And I guess some of the rest of the clan. I don't think I'd be inviting anybody from the garage, but you'd probably want that, uh, Parsnip girl--"

"Persephone!"

"Her parents hated her enough fresh out the womb to call her Persephone. She _must_ be evil. Even if she wasn't from birth, I don't think you should underestimate what a name like that can do to a person, Max."

"Shut up! She's nice!

Max kicks her in the thigh. Which is a serious strategic error because it puts her foot in tickling range and Chloe is quick to seize both the opportunity and Max's ankle. She flexes the fingers of her other hand and waggles her eyebrows at Max.

"Chloe, no!" Max is a little breathless, as if in anticipation of the giggles to come."I'll spill my coffee!"

"Hmm. All over your sweatpants, too. And then you'd have to take them off..." Chloe brings her tickling fingers into range. "I am failing to see a downside here , Max."

"How about the one where I won't have sex with you if you spill coffee on me?"

"Fiiiine!" Chloe releases Max's ankle, pouting.

Max chuckles. She puts her cup on the floor beside the couch, then she shifts around, stretching her legs out and putting her feet in Chloe's lap.

"I'm trusting you here," Max says lightly. She wiggles her toes for emphasis.

Chloe grins. "Dangerous move, Caulfield. I'm not sure how that one's going to work out for you."

"Pretty well so far," Max whispers. "I hope I tell you that enough."

That sits between them for a while, until Chloe has finished her coffee and trusts herself to speak again. "Kristen and Fernando are a must."

"Huh?" Max blinks. "Oh. For the wedding. Yeah."

"What about Kate?"

And now Max does tense. Chloe curses herself. She sometimes wonders if Max has stayed in touch with Kate Marsh out of friendship or masochism. Chloe thinks it's a little of both. Kate doesn't know about That Week. The week when Max had powers and she used them to save Chloe and doom a town. Kate made it out, and she's stayed grateful to Max for saving her life.

Max doesn't see it that way. She has a hard time handling gratitude from Kate. She has a hard time accepting gratitude from _anyone_ , even now.

After what feels like a very long time, Max says, "I don't know. I mean...I'd have to, right? And..."

"And that makes you anxious."

"...yeah. It's not the only thing, but..." Max lowers her eyes. "It's not fair, is it? Not on Kate, or you. I'm sorry, Chloe."

Chloe shakes her head. "No, no, come on. You aren't ready. I get it. I...it's okay."

Max doesn't look up. "What if I'm never ready?"

"It's still okay. It'll still be okay. I just..." Chloe puts her hand on Max's knee and squeezes. "I woke up and I felt...good. We had a good night, and it felt like a good morning and I...I just wanted to hold onto that feeling. Me asking was...was trying to hold onto that. It was dumb. I don't even have a ring, or--"

"It was sweet," Max says, making eye contact at last. "You are hella sweet, Chloe Price."

"I'm not. Just sweet on you."

Max stares at her. She bursts out laughing. "Wowser, that was cheesy!"

"Hey, fuck you! That was charming!"

"Uh-huh!" Max makes a painfully insincere show of trying to stifle her laughter. "No, yeah! Very...charming!"

"Okay, you little shit! You wanna laugh?" Chloe attacks Max's feet, reducing her to a shrieking, red-faced state in a matter of seconds.

"M-mercy!"

"Hmm." Chloe pauses in her assault. "That'll depend on how you answer this question: who's the most charming person in this relationship?"

Max's nose scrunches up. "I mean, are we talking overall, or...?"

This time, Chloe strips Max's socks off for maximum tickling efficiency. Max breaks after less than ten seconds.

"Y-you! Y-you...are..."

Chloe relents, but she keeps a hold on Max's ankle. "I am what?"

"The most charming!" Max blurts, her chest heaving. "Th-the most charming _jerk_."

"Jerk?" Max watches her, fighting a grin, her eyes shining. It feels good to be able to make Max feel good this easily, so Chloe lets her go and grins. "I am definitely the most charming jerk you know, true."

"Oh, I think you're the most charming jerk I'll ever know!"

"Ever?"

Max smiles. "Ever."

Chloe pushes herself up and crawls across the length of Max's body to her waiting mouth. She kisses her, pouring every ounce of passion she can into it.

"Wowser," Max gasps.

Chloe props herself on an elbow and stares down at her. "I love you, Max. Forever. Okay?"

Max nods, her eyes huge and liquid and focused solely on Chloe.

"Okay." Chloe kisses brow. "Couch day? Movies?"

Max smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do that. Takeout pizza later?"

"Hmm...it's a nice day. Why don't we collect it, and then maybe you could take some pictures?"

"Okay," Max says, after a pause that makes Chloe think she's bumped up against another line Max isn't ready to cross. Some days are easier than others for Max when it comes to picking up a camera.

Chloe kisses her again. "Just an idea."

"See how we feel later?"

"Yeah. That's okay, Max." 

"Okay." Her voice becomes a whisper. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Hey, uh, for the record, though?" Chloe wonders if she's fucking everything up again, but Max meets her eye and nods calmly. "I'm not withdrawing the question. It's okay if you never change your mind, but if you do? I, uh, I'm yours, Max."

Max kisses her. It's answer enough for now.

A few lazy kisses later, Max clears her throat. She says, "So...are you putting pants on or am I taking mine off?"

Chloe grins. "Now that _is_ a good question!"

They end up back in bed before they spend the rest of the day on the couch watching Marvel movies on Max's dad's Netflix account. They go out for food, and Max takes her camera, and even if she only takes pictures of Chloe, at least she's taking pictures.

It ends up being a good day. There are still bad days after that, of course, but there are more and more of the good ones in the years that follow.

* * *

Chloe lets the question stand. She never asks Max to marry her again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could probably do with another editing pass, but I'm tired and I really want to share this with you, so...I'll fix things later!

The only surprising thing about Chloe's surprise 30th birthday party is that Max thought she could keep it a secret. 

For one thing, while Chloe is wearing her nicest pants and a clean button-down, Max has made _effort_ tonight. She's wearing a dress and has fancy hair and makeup. Just seeing her show up at the restaurant made Chloe feel shy about talking to the person she's shared most of her life with. Max wanting to go to the bar without changing kinda suggests that something's up. 

The other thing is, though, that she told Kate about her plans and Kate blushes when she lies. She blushes every bit as hard now as she did when she was eighteen. Max expecting Kate to hide her reddening cheeks from Chloe during a video call planning her Seattle visit--which just so happens to coincide with Chloe's birthday--was wildly optimistic.

Chloe tries not to look too smug when Max takes her to their favourite bar for a post-dinner drink and Max slips inside ahead of her, holding the door. Chloe fully intends to walk in, blink a few times, and gasp 'wowser' in a breathy voice, just so Max knows she'll need to up her game in future.

But her smirk dies when she walks into Go With The Grain and everyone inside yells 'Surprise!' Because there's a _lot_ of everyone in the bar: Max's friends she's picked up with seemingly no effort across various jobs and her artistic connections, Chloe's much smaller pool of friends mostly gathered from her forays into Seattle's music scene, Kate, of course, Kristen, of course, Fernando...?

"Happy Birthday, Chloe!" Fernando grins and presses a bottle of beer into Chloe's hand. He leans in and stage whispers, "Are you still treating our girl right? I'd hate to have to try to kick your ass and make you kick my ass."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure your ass will live to fight another day." Chloe laughs and takes a quick gulp of beer. A quick look around suggests that Max rented the whole fucking place out. It also shows her Max giving _Chloe_ a smug grin as she heads to the bar. "Shit, dude! Especially since you dragged it all the way from fucking Lisbon! For my birthday? What the fuck!"

"Oh, no, no, no!" Fernando takes her elbow and guides Chloe towards the press of people. "I'm in town for other business! It just so happened that other business lined up with your birthday, and how could I resist getting all up in _your_ business?"

"Yeah, sure..." Chloe looks around, but Max has vanished. There were times when that would have made Chloe panic, but these days it merely causes her throat to briefly tighten and her heart to speed up _slightly_. "How, uh, how's the life of an academic?"

"I teach dance, Chloe. In barely passable Portuguese. I don't think I quite count as an academic."

"Uh, it counts when you're at a fancy fucking Conservatoire!" Chloe makes the mistake of catching Persephone's eye and tries to turn her reflexive grimace into a smile. "The fuck is she doing here?"

"Huh?"

"Fucking Parsley! Uh, actually, it doesn't matter." Chloe doesn't intend to loop Fernando in on her mildly paranoid thoughts on Max's former work colleague and overly persistent friend, Persephone. To Chloe's relief, she finally spots Max. She’s near the bar, talking to her mom. "Vanessa's here?"

"She is." Fernando smirks, and focusing his attention in the opposite direction. "More importantly, Ryan is here, too. Still rocking the lumberjack look and bearing some distinguished grey in his beard, which frankly--"

"Oh, Jesus, stop!" Kristen materialises beside Chloe. She punches Fernando's arm. "You pretending to have a crush on Mr Caulfield has _never_ been funny. Hey, Chlo! Happy birthday, babe!"

Chloe is promptly smothered in one of Kristen's bear hugs. Fernando winks at her over Kristen's shoulder and turns an appreciative leer towards Ryan Caulfield, who is busy setting up a projector on the other side of the room.

"Who says I'm pretending?" Fernando says cheerfully.

Chloe detaches herself from Kristen when her ribs begin to creak under the pressure. "My gag reflex sure hopes you are. He's Max's dad! He's..." Chloe almost says that Ryan is her father-in-law. But he isn't, of course. As good as he's been to Chloe, he isn't legally any kind of relation at all. Weakly, Chloe says, "He's...nearly sixty!"

"He's fifty-three!" Fernando protests. He subsides in the face of Chloe and Kristen's combined glares. "Fine, fine! No hot dad talk!"

Kristen snorts. "Good. Because Chloe has an appointment with everybody and you've had your time, Fernando!"

She sticks her tongue out at Fernando, making Chloe laugh. The two of them in close proximity always seems to turn into teens again, no matter how old or how responsible they are otherwise. Chloe's laughter turns into a squawk when Kristen grips her arm in both hands and drags her off to meet the rest of her adoring public.

The first half-hour is downright fucking weird. Chloe is dragged around and made to say hello to a succession of people, some she knows better than others. She doesn't get much more than a few minutes with anyone before Kristen's yanking on her arm and she's off to the next group. Chloe finds herself making small talk and surrendering her empty bottle at not infrequent intervals, only to have a fresh one pressed into her hand.

Max is on her own orbit of the room, and even if it isn't a big bar they somehow keep missing each other. The best Chloe gets after thirty minutes is the moment when Max gives her a tight smile in passing before she vanishes again.

Kristen drags Chloe in the opposite direction of Max, which puts them on a collision course with fucking Peroxide. Chloe manages to grit out a 'hello' before Peristalsis launches into a breathless account of what a cute disaster Max was first time the two of them went wall-climbing. Kristen makes a sympathetic face at Chloe as the story drags on. Maybe she’s as aware as Chloe that this is a case of 'Max's Friend Has A Thing For Her That Max Is Too Oblivious To Notice.' Maybe she’s wondering, like Chloe, why the fuck Paralysis got invited. Chloe lets Kristen handle anything more conversationally challenging than a grunt and watches Max confer with her dad from the corner of her eye.

Slowly but surely, Chloe's temper starts to fray.

Max is too far away. Max has been too far away for too long now. It's dumb, of course. It's not like they haven't spent whole days apart for one reason or another. But being close to Max and not being able to reach her? That's uncomfortably close to certain nightmares Chloe's had.

Chloe takes another gulp of beer. She tries to keep her breathing steady. There are more people than she expected, and everyone's being _nice_ , but Chloe desperately needs some time to herself to process all of this. She needs some time in a dark corner where she can watch shit unfold, where she can not be the centre of attention for a little while.

Well, really she needs a chance to grab Max and hold her and kiss her and thank her. Preferably in the aforementioned dark corner.

Chloe studies Max, frowning. Max looks as keyed up as Chloe's beginning to feel: her shoulders are hunched and her nose is scrunched in the way that says she's deeply stressed about something. Chloe is on the verge of clubbing fucking Polio out of her way with her beer bottle and running to Max's side when a hand touches her elbow.

"Chloe, can I borrow you for a minute?"

The former Kate Marsh smiles shyly up at Chloe, gesturing towards the bar. She's wearing mom jeans and a floral blouse, but she's allowed, because she's a mom. The once perilous masses of her blonde hair have long since been cut back, but in deference to the party spirit, she's at least wearing it down tonight. Chloe's more used to seeing her hair in a bun or a ponytail. It's nice to see it loose and tickling her shoulders.

"Kate! Sure thing!"

Chloe shows Pneumonia her teeth and lets Kate guide her away. She's relieved to see that Kristen hangs back. Chloe's fond of Kristen--they bonded early over punk bands and bottles of Punk IPA back in the day--but it was starting to feel like she had a fucking chaperone to her own party.

At the bar, Chloe is further relieved to find a quiet place to stand and take in Kate Marsh in the flesh. Or rather, Kate Peele: she's been hitched for almost six years. The Kate Chloe used to know was a pale, dainty girl of almost impossible sweetness. Years and motherhood have made her less dainty in every sense, but she still fucking _glows_ with inner warmth. She's one of the most beautiful women Chloe's ever encountered.

"What's up, Kate?" Chloe asks softly, feeling less pressure on her lungs when she breathes.

"Oh, nothing really!" Kate smiles. "You just looked like you needed some space."

In the bad years after Arcadia Bay, Max would oscillate between her desire to keep Kate in her life and her shame that she could never tell Kate everything about what went down in the timeline that Max erased. Chloe ended up being a go-between of sorts, when Max couldn't face Kate. After a while, when the pressure of trying to keep all of her pain and guilt over Rachel and Joyce from exploding in Max's face got to be too much, it was Kate who saw how badly Chloe needed to talk.

It was Kate who listened, in the early days, before Max could.

So Chloe puts her beer down, then picks Kate up, folding her into an embrace. Kate squeaks when her feet leave the floor, but she quickly wraps her arms around Chloe. It was easier doing shit like this when they were both younger, but Chloe's kind of a gym rat these days. Theoretically she does it to stay healthy, but all the hours spent in the vicinity of sweaty dudes with wandering eyes is made _worthwhile_ because Chloe is able to pick up her favourite girls whenever she feels like it.

"Thanks, Kate."

"You're welcome." Kate waits a moment. "Um, you can put me down?"

"Right, yeah!" Chloe lowers Kate to the ground and grins at her. "It's good to see you, lady. How's the family? How's the latest bestseller coming?"

"Oh! I'm just making a mess with my paints, as usual." Kate waves a hand, dismissing the shelf-load of kids' books she's drawn and illustrated. Books which have filled more than one shelf in the house the books have paid for with the awards that they've won. "But everyone's well, thank you! Michael's decided to spend the weekend working on his motorbike restoration project, though I think he's being optimistic. It's all going to depend on what the children decide to do."

"Yeah, that Triumph isn’t happening any time soon! And how are the babies?"

"Sam is almost two, can you believe it? He's not really a baby anymore. And I know Evey is looking forward to her Auntie Chloe's next visit. She's still talking about the pirate tattoo you drew on her arm last time you visited."

Chloe grins. She's no artist, but she _is_ quite an accomplished doodler. "Have I ever mentioned I have high hopes for your daughter?"

Kate smiles, all the way to her eyes. "You and Max should come visit soon. Come whenever. You have an open invitation."

Chloe has to fight the urge to pick Kate up again. "You're just trying to lure me in and trick me into babysitting, aren't you?"

"Oh, no!" Kate smiles guilelessly up at Chloe. "I'm trying to trick Max into babysitting while we run wild and paint the town red!"

Chloe laughs. "Isn't your town kinda...tiny?"

"I'd say it's snug, thank you. And since I'm usually in my bed by 8 these days, a small town is all I could really manage to paint red."

"Well, I appreciate you staying up late tonight on my account tonight," Chloe says, grinning.

"It's okay. I took a nap in the hotel." Kate smiles, her eyes twinkling. "I may even make it to ten tonight!"

"Seattle is not prepared for your rampage, Kate." Chloe finishes her beer. She takes satisfaction in spending her own money for the first time this evening, buying herself another beer and a cranberry juice for Kate. She clinks Kate's glass with her bottle. "It's seriously good to see you. Thanks for taking the time to visit."

"It was overdue! Besides..." Kate touches the crucifix she wears at her neck. "I couldn't miss tonight."

"Yeah, it's not every year I turn thirty! Well, come to think of it, I could make it a rule that every year from here on out is my thirtieth. Fuck the aging system and its numerical oppression, right?"

"I...suppose that's one way of looking at it! I do think it's scary, how quickly time passes these days. Weeks used to last longer, didn't they?"

"Some longer than others," Chloe mutters, looking for Max. She spots her near the exit, partially obscured by and in conversation with some older guy Chloe doesn't recognise.

"Chloe?"

"Mm?"

"Ah, I actually do have something I wanted to...well, I mean, I want to give you your present." Kate rummages in her bag, her cheeks puffed out as she hunts. "I want you to have this now, in case I forget."

"Dude, come on. You don't have to--"

"I do," Kate says firmly. She looks up, smiling in triumph, and presents Chloe with an envelope. It's made of thick, creamy paper and from the look of it, it contains more high end stationery inside it. "Here!"

Chloe bemusedly accepts it. "You...got me a letter?"

"Um, something like that." Kate chuckles. "It...um, it's for later, though. Don't open it now."

"Okaaay." Chloe hesitates, then tucks the envelope into her jacket pocket. "Thank you, Kate Peele, Woman Of Mystery. I'll take it to bed with a torch and open it under my comforter, while Max is brushing her teeth."

"Oh, ah! You don't have to...I mean, I really _hope_ you'll share it with Max!" Kate giggles, but the sound is a little too strained. She begins to fiddle with her hair, changes her mind and takes a swift drink of cranberry juice. She avoids Chloe's eye as her cheeks redden.

"Kate. Katy. Katerina. Is there somethin' on your mind?"

"Um, n-no! I, ah, it isn't really..." Kate groans. "Max is going to give a speech about you! With photos! It was supposed to be a surprise..."

"This is not a complete shock to me, Kate. Max has been working on a secret project on her laptop for a while. And there is that big projector screen, so..."

It isn't a shock, even if it is surprising as a concept: Max doesn't like public speaking. But it explains why Max has been so fidgety, and maybe even why Kristen and Kate have been keeping Chloe occupied. Max wanted to get set up while preserving the surprise for Chloe. Chloe finds herself relaxing completely for the first time since she came into the bar.

"Max should really know by now that she can't hide secrets from me!"

"Especially not if she tells them to me," Kate mutters ruefully.

"Relax, Kate! I'll act surprised when the moment comes."

It comes only a few minutes later, when Kristen seizes Chloe's arm and hauls her towards a cluster of tables facing the projector screen.

"Okay, Chloe, that's enough standing around!" Kristen says, smirking. "Let's get you seated for the main event."

"I thought _I_ was the main event?"

"Right! Which means you're way too important to still be standing!"

Chloe grins and lets herself be dragged to a chair close to the projector. Kate takes a seat on one side of her, while Kristen and Fernando sit on the other side of their table. The other guests take the remaining seats or find places to stand where they can see the screen.

"Well, this is all very surprising," Chloe says loudly, throwing in a quick wink at Kate.

Kate gives her a sufficiently impressive Disapproving Mom Glare to wipe the grin off of Chloe's face for a few seconds.

A large hand claps her shoulder. Chloe looks up and up some more until she makes eye contact with Ryan Caulfield's beard.

"Hey, Mr C!"

"Chloe!" The beard parts, revealing Ryan's teeth in a smile. "Before things get crazy, I wanted to say happy birthday. So...happy birthday!"

"Thanks! And thanks for coming out tonight. Is Mrs C around?"

"Ah, yes! Somewhere." The smile becomes toothier. "She's been helping Max organise things tonight. She's keeping close to Max. And I...am going to be on standby in case anything goes wrong. If _you_ need me, I'll be nearby!"

"Huh? Cool, but why would I...?"

Before Chloe can question what that's supposed to mean, Kristen lets off a whoop. Chloe looks round and sees Max standing to the side of the projector screen. Her laptop is set up on a stool at her elbow.

Max is nervous. 

It isn't as obvious as it used to be when they were kids, or even when they were fumbling through the first years of supposed adulthood together. But it's there in the set of her shoulders, the compression of her lips, the way the tip of her shoe makes tiny, almost indiscernible movements back and forth.

Chloe wishes she could go to her, but that would probably make things worse. She wishes she'd had a chance to spend more time with Max tonight and decides that she's going to do her best to get some private time with her as soon as she can. 

Chloe wishes she'd made more of a big deal of how beautiful Max is tonight, too, because _shit_ she's beautiful. She looks amazing in a pale green dress with floral embroidery and a fancy, floaty skirt. Her hair is up in a braid, and her makeup brings out the deep and perfect blue of her eyes.

Max turns those eyes on Chloe and when their gazes meet, some of the rigidity leaves Max's posture. She smiles, just a little quirk of the lips, but that's enough to let Chloe know that everything is okay. Max is okay.

"H-hey..." Max clears her throat. "Hey, everyone! So...we all know why we're here, right?" 

Max taps at her laptop's keyboard and Chloe's face appears on the projector. It's not just any picture, either: it's the fucking awful shot of her on her driver's license. Chloe puts on a scowl at the ripple of laughter that shot provokes. Max grins at her.

"That's right! We're here because of Chloe Elizabeth Price, who is going to be thirty years old on Monday!"

Chloe's surprised by the volume of the applause and cheering that follows. She raises her bottle in salute, hoping her blush isn't too obvious.

When the noise dies down, Max continues. "I wanted to celebrate some of the highs..."

A new picture appears on the screen: Chloe from a few years ago, grinning in obvious delight around the side of a stacked plate as she was about to embark on Maureen the Doughnut Queen's Every Variety Challenge.

"And the lows of life with Chloe Price."

The next image is of Chloe thirty minutes and several doughnuts later, her face smeared with jam and powdered sugar, her eyes glazed with horror as she contemplates the mound of baked goods still on her plate.

Everybody laughs again, louder this time. Chloe shoots Max another glare and decides she needs to go through Max's photo archives and make some edits.

"There are a _lot_ of stories I could tell you about Chloe," Max says, looking like she's enjoying herself now. "About the time she 'fixed' the washing machine and flooded my parents' house, or the time she decided to celebrate my birthday with a romantic breakfast in bed..."

Cue a picture Chloe took of the tray laden with a belgian waffle, a side dish of fresh berries, a glass of champagne, and a juniper-scented candle.

Chloe sinks even lower in her seat. " _Fuck_ , Max!"

"...and woke me up when she set the sheets on fire."

Cue a picture _Max_ took of their scorched and sodden comforter. It's not Max's best shot, probably because she was laughing her ass off so much she couldn’t keep her hands steady.

Several people in the crowd laugh theirs off in the here and now. When Fernando gapes at her, Chloe mutters, "I dropped the candle and the bed sheet went up, okay? But I put it out with the champagne!"

Max clears her throat. "I could tell you a lot more stories like that. Like, a lot. And I probably will when I've had another glass of wine, but--"

"Cut Max off," Chloe yells to the bar staff.

That gets a laugh, and a little glare from Max.

" _But_ ," she says, "there are all the other things I could tell you about. I could tell you about Chloe going out for ice cream and bringing back our cat, Willow, instead. Chloe found her injured and mewling in the street and saved her, when everyone else walked by."

Cue an image Chloe didn't even know existed: Chloe napping on the couch, a sleek and content-looking Willow curled up on Chloe's chest. She remembers that evening, though. It was about a month ago. Max had come home from a shoot and draped a blanket over Chloe without waking either her or the cat. Max had waited until Chloe woke up before having her dinner. They'd snuggled up on the couch, bitched about their days, then binged She-Ra on Netflix in anticipation of the new season dropping.

It had been a good night. There have been a lot of good nights, more and more of them lately.

"I could tell you about the time I fell off a wall I climbed trying to frame the perfect shot..."

Cue an impressionistic smear of lights and shapes. Some people laugh, and even Max smiles, but Chloe doesn't. She remembers the pain Max was in, how long she was hobbling around on a swollen ankle, how stressed she was that she'd fucked up a freelance assignment, that she was losing work when they needed money.

"I, uh, tore the ligaments in my ankle. Chloe left the garage early and drove me to the hospital. When we got home, she carried me up the stairs to our apartment." Max pauses, and the laugh lines around her mouth crease. "We _do_ have an elevator, but she insisted on the carrying thing."

People laugh, and even Chloe smiles, but Max doesn't. She stares Chloe in the eye, her expression tender, but...but there's something else, something even Chloe has only glimpsed relatively rarely. Purpose. Resolve.

Chloe shivers.

Even friends who know them fairly well think that Chloe is the tough one and Max is the soft one. That's complete fucking bullshit, of course. It’s true that Chloe can be loud and impulsive, and people often mistake that for being _decisive_. And it’s true that Max usually isn’t loud or demanding. That’s because Max prefers quiet, though. She likes to take her time thinking things through. 

When she was younger, Max could get lost in her own thoughts. She could become paralysed in the face of making a decision. Now, though, when Max is done thinking and she decides to do something, there's no fuss, no fucking around, she just quietly _makes it happen_. And when she has the kind of look in her eye that she has right now...

It’s this simple: Max isn't the tough one in their relationship. Max is the toughest person Chloe has ever met.

Chloe is more than okay with other people not seeing that side of Max. Chloe considers it one of her duties in life to try to ensure that Max is never tested as sorely again as she was that week. Chloe is happy that most people think that Max is soft. As far as Chloe is concerned, they should treasure Max's considerable capacity to be gentle, to be warm, to be kind.

Most of all, Chloe wants Max to be able to treasure those qualities in herself. More days than not now, it seems like she does.

Max's eyes flicker over Chloe's face. She releases a breath and smiles. "I could tell you a lot of stories about Chloe Elizabeth Price, because I've been lucky enough to share most of her life with her. But I need to try to tell you about all the things I can't tell you."

Blank white space fills the projector screen.

"Because how do you explain all the tiny things? All the things that make you love someone, all the things that help you get through..." Max swallows, her smile becoming fragile. "Ah, that help you get through the rough days. Chloe has been there for me through the very roughest moments of my life, and how can I explain all the ways she helped me get through them?

“How can I put into words how much she means to me, how much she's meant to me through my whole life? Through dumb jokes no one else would laugh at, and meaningless games that meant everything to us, to the way she always steals the last of my dessert, to how she _always_ knows when I need a cookie or a hug, or...or how she holds my hand during a thunderstorm, to...everything. How do I sum up everything about Chloe?"

Max spreads her hands, directing her gaze around the room.

"Maybe you don't need to be convinced that Chloe is special. Maybe you don't need to know exactly how or why she's so special to me. But the thing is...Chloe deserves to know. So...Mom?"

Vanessa Caulfield walks up to Max, passing her something small. Small, and suspiciously box-like.

Chloe's mouth is dry, her heart is thundering, and none of her limbs seem to be functioning properly. Her head is several sizes too small for the thoughts her brain is trying to construct.

"So, uh, this is the best way I could think of to say how much I love you, Chloe." Max squares her shoulders. Her foot scrapes and scrapes at the floor. Her nose scrunches up. "Next slide, Mom."

A new image appears on the projector, but this time it's just a bunch of words with a question mark at the end. The words read: _Will you (still) marry me?_

Max lowers herself to one knee. She opens the box Vanessa gave her, and presents Chloe with an engagement ring. "Surprise."

"Oh, holy _fuck_ ," Chloe gasps. She tries to make sense of where her legs are and how they're supposed to work. She tries to stand up. "You little _shit_ , how could you do this to me?"

Max's nose scrunches in amusement. "Is that a yes, or...?"

"Fuck you, Max! Yeah, it's yes!"

More laughter. And, Chloe notices, an exchange of smug looks between Kristen, Fernando and even Kate. 

"Okay. Good!" Max takes a few deep breaths while the room is filled with cheering and applause. Chloe has just about managed to stand up when Max says, "Mom. Next slide."

Chloe freezes. "There's _more_?"

The new slide reads: _Oh, thank dog. Okay. But will you marry me RIGHT NOW?_

The old guy Max was talking to earlier walks up to Vanessa’s side. He has a book tucked under one arm. He’s carrying a cushion with a pair of wedding bands on it and a decided twinkle in his eye.

A lot of people gasp and a buzz of conversation fills the room in response to that. Chloe’s response is to suavely trip up over her chair.

Ryan Caulfield appears by her side, clasping her elbow and helping Chloe get untangled from the suddenly complex furniture. He lets her go once she's clear of the table, but he offers her his arm. Softly, he asks, "Chloe. Would you like me to walk you over there?"

It's less than ten feet and Chloe thinks she can make it even on _her_ feet. But that isn't what he's asking. That isn't what he's offering.

Chloe hesitates. It's only for a moment, but it's long enough for Ryan. He thrusts his hands into his pockets and nods at her. "Okay. Go on, then. Go marry my daughter."

"Thanks, but..." Chloe trails off, because she can tell from the smile he gives her that he understands. "Thanks," she concludes lamely.

She starts off in the direction of Max, only for Kate to lean out of her seat and touch her wrist. "Chloe! Quick, open your present!"

Chloe blinks at her. She fumbles the envelope out of her pocket. She can feel something small and solid sliding around inside it. It's unsealed, so she only has to push one trembling finger under the flap and tug to open it. She takes the folded letter out, and unfolds it. There are three short lines of text: _This isn’t your present. This was the disguise. Look in the envelope._

Chloe fishes around until she finds the real present. Chloe gasps. "Kate, there's no fucking way I can accept--"

Kate plucks the envelope and letter out of her hands and smiles at her. "Yes. You can. No arguments, Max is waiting."

She has a point. Chloe turns and there Max is, smiling at her. And at that point, it's Max and only Max. Chloe doesn't feel like she's in charge of her own body until she's standing in front of her.

"Hi," Max says softly, a tiny smile on her lips, a depth of love in her eyes. "You're really pretty. Can I be yours?"

"Hey, beautiful." Chloe coughs out a laugh. "Is...is this really happening?"

"It is." Max's face grows solemn. "I...I still don’t know if I deserve this. If I deserve _you_ , but...but I’ll always have doubts. And I have no doubt about you. I finally realised I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, so…”

“So...you planned a fucking ambush wedding?”

“I prefer to think of it as a pirate wedding,” Max says, her eyes gleaming. “I figured we may as well get on with it. We both know what we want. All the guests we want are here. And...I didn't want you to have to wait any longer. I've kept you waiting for seventeen years already."

"You remember _that_?" Chloe's pretty sure even the tips of her ears are as pink as her hair at this point. "I was kinda hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"I haven't forgotten anything, Chloe Price." It's almost ominous, until Max grins, and everything about her is made luminous. "Now gimme your hand! I've got to put this ring on you!"

Chloe offers her hand. It takes Max a few seconds to get the ring on her finger; it's a perfect fit, but both of their hands are shaking. Chloe is dimly aware of the sounds of celebration around them, hut all it is is noise. Max is holding Chloe's hand in both of hers, her eyes brighter than the diamond on Chloe's finger, a soft smile on her lips that Chloe aches to kiss.

But the kissing part comes later. Now, Chloe has a surprise for Max.

"Okay. Your turn."

"Huh?" Max blinks. "What do you...?"

"I guess Kate _can_ keep a secret when she wants to." Chloe shows her Kate's gift: a gold ring with a sapphire set in it.

"What?" Max's hands fly to her mouth. "Kate?"

“Surprise!” Chloe uses the edge of her thumb to catch a tear threatening to spill from the corner of Max’s eye. “Hey. Let me see that hand. We’re going to need to do this all over again pretty soon!”

“Good point.” Max surrenders her hand. She watches with the same intensity and focus she has when she’s framing a shot as Chloe slides the ring onto her finger.

“You know what this means?”

Max’s nose scrunches with amusement. “That we’re engaged?”

“Well, yeah! Holy shit...yeah! We’re engaged! For real! Holy shit!”

“Did you...really not get that part of this process?”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to be sweet here!”

“Oh, sorry! You’re making a great job of it so far. Do go on.”

Chloe sticks her tongue out at Max, making her giggle. “What I was going to say was...your eyes are officially prettier than sapphires.”

“Oh.” Max’s eyes widen, making testing the comparison even easier. And even more to the sapphire’s detriment. Max’s cheeks redden. “Okay, but...don’t say things like that while we’re in a strict no-kissing window. Because I really want to kiss you now.”

“Wait, we’re not allowed to kiss for the whole of our engagement?”

“Uh-huh. But that’s going to be about thirty more seconds, so...I think we’ll manage.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Chloe says softly, brushing the backs of her fingers across Max’s cheek. She leans in a little closer. “You’re looking seriously fucking kissable right now.”

Which is, of course, the point where the old dude who’s marrying them announces his presence by clearing his throat.

Chloe jumps back, flushing. She becomes painfully aware of the thirty-odd people watching her again. “Ah...yeah. Right. Good. Totally ready for this!”

And the thing is...Chloe is. 

It’d be a lie to say that she’s wanted this her whole life, or that she’s wanted this since she was thirteen, or that Max was the only love of her life. Life and love are too messy, too complex, to happily endure absolutes. 

Hearts have more than one chamber; there’s room for more than one great love.

But if it’s a lie to say that the road to this moment was smooth or direct, it’d be a bigger lie to say that Chloe could imagine being in this moment with anyone other than Max. It’d be the biggest lie of all to say that who Chloe Price is now could love anyone as much as she loves Max Caulfield.

Things take on a dream-like quality over the following minutes. Vanessa moves to Max’s side, taking charge of the cushion with the rings. Kristen joins Vanessa, and Kate joins Chloe, putting herself in serious danger of being lifted off the floor again.

The old guy turns out to be a humanist celebrant, and once the wedding party is gathered and the noise in the bar has settled into expectant silence, he says, “Normally, I’d begin by saying something about why we’re gathered here today, but that would be somewhat redundant, I think!”

And maybe Chloe isn’t just ready, but impatient, even, because when he catches her eye, his widen slightly. “Well,” he says briskly, “since this doesn’t seem like the occasion to prolong the moment, shall we move things along? Would you like to share your vows?”

At which point, Chloe realises that she is not, in fact, fucking ready at all. “Uh…suuuure, but, uh, I might need--”

“Chloe.“ Max takes her hand in both of hers. “Whatever else might not last…”

“We will,” Chloe whispers, locking eyes with Max. She clears her throat and more confidently states, “We will. Forever.”

“That’s the only vow I need,” Max says, squeezing her hand.

The celebrant coughs politely. “The law requires just a few more...shall we?”

One of the advantages of ritual is that it renders the arcane into a series of easy steps to follow. So even though Chloe is pretty much entirely consumed by Max’s eyes, Max’s smile, Max’s sheer intoxicating presence, she has enough brain left over to say all the right things at the right moments.

It seems like no time passes at all before Chloe is saying ‘I do’ and sliding a silver band inscribed with a pattern of roses onto Max’s finger. And then Max is saying ‘I do’ and sliding an identical ring onto Chloe’s finger.

And then it’s the moment that some part of her _has_ been waiting for for nearly seventeen years: the kiss. Chloe has kissed Max before, of course, many times. But she’s never kissed her _wife_ before, and the realisation that she’s about to for the first time is more than a little breathtaking.

Chloe leans down and runs her fingers across Max’s upturned cheeks. She leans in and her mouth meets Max’s parted, expectant lips. Presumably there’s cheering, and applause, and laughter, and the flash of phones and cameras capturing their version of the moment.

Chloe has no awareness of any of that. She’s only aware of Max’s skin under her fingers, of Max’s body moving up against hers, of Max’s lips, her mouth, her tongue as the kiss between them deepens. Chloe is aware of the blood rushing through her body singing a fierce chorus in time to the percussion of her heart. She’s aware of the duet her body is making with Max’s.

She’s aware that she’s in love and that she is loved in equal and endless measure. She is aware that this moment will not last, but the memory of it, and the bond that it symbolises, will last for as long as she and Max have left.

And in the end, when they finally part, Chloe is aware that she is married to Maxine Caulfield and every shadow that her past has ever cast on her is dispelled in the light of that understanding, if only for a little while.

Max, face flushed and happy, the fingers of her right hand tangled in Chloe’s hair, touches the tip of her nose to Chloe’s and whispers, ‘“Wowser.”

“Yeah. Wowser.” Chloe laughs. “So...how long do we have to stick around here before we can go home and consummate the fuck out of this union?”

* * *

Reality doesn’t put in much of an appearance for the rest of the night.

There are papers to be signed, and pictures to be taken, and people to be spoken to. There are gifts to be received, thanks to be given, conspirators to Max’s evil scheme to be grilled, champagne and cake to be consumed, music to be danced to, Kate to be hugged, Kristen and Fernando and Vanessa and Ryan to be hugged by…

It’s a lot, but it doesn’t feel overwhelming because Max is by Chloe’s side through all of it. It’s a lot, but Chloe’s patience can’t wear thin when everything seems new and exciting and good. Everything about being Max Caulfield’s bride feels good. 

Especially the parts where they find an excuse to hide in a corner and make out like horny teens for a few minutes at a time.

It’s Max who eventually signals an end to the evening by tugging Chloe into kissing range and planting one on her cheek. Then she whispers, “Mom booked us a cab for midnight. It’s midnight. Wanna go home?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, Mrs, uh...wife.”

Max giggles. “We’ll figure out surnames tomorrow. That can wait. Right?”

And with one of Max’s hands cupping the back of her neck and the other stealthily kneading her ass, Chloe is inclined to agree to anything she has in mind at the moment.

“You wanna start making our goodbyes?” Chloe asks, her voice only slightly unsteady.

“Fuck that shit.” Max grins. “Let’s elope.”

“I think technically we missed our chance for that, but I’m all for running now and working the rest out tomorrow!”

They don’t exactly get away unnoticed, but they do get away quickly, followed by a chorus of goodbyes, best wishes and Kristen’s wolf whistling.

They have their first argument as a married couple in the cab and come to their first compromise: Max forbids Drunk Chloe from carrying her up the stairs to their apartment and insists on taking the elevator. Chloe agrees, but only on the condition that they make out aggressively while they’re in there.

Max approves that motion.

One cab ride, one elevator ride and dozens of increasingly hungry kisses later, they’re standing at the door of their apartment. Chloe unlocks it and pushes it ajar, wary of feline escape attempts, but she doesn’t go in. She blocks the doorway with her body and turns to Max. 

“I’m carrying you in there. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Max laughs and holds out her arms. “I didn’t want us falling down a whole bunch of stairs, but I’m not missing a chance to swoon in your arms.”

Chloe gathers Max up into her arms. Max happily wraps her arms around Chloe’s neck and kisses her. Chloe turns to face their apartment. She pauses and gazes into Max’s eyes. “You make me so fucking happy. I love you so fucking much, Mrs Price.”

“I love you, Mrs Caulfield. Take me to bed now.”

Chloe kisses her again, then she pushes the door open with her elbow.

They cross the threshold together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s hearts, in inseperable union.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, folks!
> 
> For the record, this is based on how a work colleague got married to her childhood sweetheart, including the repeated rejected proposals all the way up to the proposal-immediately-followed-by-wedding part. When I heard her story, I knew I had just been handed something special and absolutely perfect for Pricefield. So here we all are!
> 
> I hope you liked it. Please do leave a comment and let me know your thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> Uh oh!
> 
> Thanks for reading! I wanted to get this out while it was still technically Chloe's birthday, even if it wasn't finished. Good thing I made it to that cliffhanger, eh? 
> 
> Second and final part soon! Very soon, promise! :)


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